


Heat

by katiebour



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Breathplay, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Pheromones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebour/pseuds/katiebour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on the k!meme:<br/><i>Okay so I was looking at some of the unfilled prompts from a couple years ago and one caught my eye. It was nothing elaborate, just a more predatory and 'darker' side to Thane dominating F!Shep (but I'm a sucker for rare pairings so really, it's up to you).</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Bonus points for a fight for dominance with whoever submitting to Thane; bondage, sensory deprivation, choking, orgasm denial, Thane explaining the ways he could kill them while teasing, etc, as long as it's all consensual. My only squicks are the usual gross out bathroom stuff but I think that goes without saying...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shep ran a hand surreptitiously across her brow, trying to maintain an appearance of _tough_ and _sexy_ rather than _tired_. The club's pounding bass had been rattling through her for more than an hour, and attempting to loiter while maintaining a discreet lookout for their contact meant that she had to look like she was enjoying herself. She'd danced for a while, had no more than a sip of the drink she'd ordered, and fended off the attentions of a drunk batarian.

Garrus was sitting at the bar nursing his drink and keeping a lookout, and as for Thane-

Well, she wasn't sure exactly. He'd disappeared into the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor, one more slim humanoid in leather, the patterning on his skin and dark eyes no doubt hiding him like the predator he was.

He'd mentioned something once about “the darkest corner with the best view,” and firmly pushed her thoughts in a different direction. Of course he was keeping an eye on her. They were all keeping an eye on each other, and if this damned volus didn't show soon, she was going to call it and head back to the Normandy.

“Earth-clan,” an aspirating voice said behind her, and she turned, nodding acknowledgment to the squat, suited figure before her. “My private lounge- is this way,” he said, and waddled over to a side door.

She followed, Garrus abandoning his seat at the bar to fall in no more than two steps behind her, and seconds later Thane melted out of the press of bodies and appeared at her right.

“My associates,” she said shortly to the volus, who nodded, passing his omni-tool over the door lock and led them into a corridor. The bass quieted to a thrum, blocked by steel and sound-proofing, and the room before them opened up into a barely-lit area dotted with couches here and there.

Most of the lighting in the room came from screens positioned strategically around the walls, all of which, Shep realized immediately, were broadcasting different varieties of porn. Asari and human women giggled or writhed in dark corners, the patrons they served no more than shadows.

She sat gingerly on a chair when invited by the volus, trying very, very hard not to think about who might have had the seat before she did, or how often the upholstery was cleaned. Garrus and Thane stood behind her, playing her 'muscle', and Shep came to the mortifying realization that the vid screen opposite them was playing human porn. The woman on the screen moaned, clutching her (fake) breasts while the leading man pounded her from behind, punctuating her gasps with interjections of “you like that, baby, yeah. Yeah. Take it.”

The volus ordered drinks, and she took a moment to steal a glance at her companions. Maybe they hadn't-

Nope, they'd seen it. Garrus had his neck craned at an angle that was going to hurt if he kept it up much longer, mandibles shifting as he endeavored heroically to avoid looking at the screen, her, or anyone else in the room. That left the ceiling, which he was perusing with determined fascination.

Thane was watching the screen impassively, no sign of a reaction. Well, that was good. Maybe humans didn't turn his crank. Nothing more than a particularly noisy nature vid, then-

As if he could feel her eyes on him, he flicked a look her way, lightning-fast, mouth twitching just a bit in amusement.

Oh, hell.

Reddening, she struggled to avoid joining Garrus' fascination with the ceiling as “Oh, oh, _oh, yes, yes, YES,_ ” came dramatically from the screen. She wasn't sure what was more embarrassing, that her squadmates were seeing a private act between two members of her species, or that it was so patently false and badly filmed.

“ _Lemon-stealing whore_ ,” the man panted from the screen, and Shep choked back a horrified snort of laughter. That had to be the worst (or possibly the best) porn plot she'd ever heard.


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you mind?” she asked pointedly, jerking her head toward the screen, and the volus turned to look.

“Of course,” he said, and with a wave of the omni-tool the volume descended to a merciful barely audible.

“You understand- the terms of the agreement?” the volus spoke, turning back to her. 

“70-30 split,” she replied carelessly. “You give us the location, we eliminate the problem and send the goods your way. Half payment now,” she said, and the lights in the volus' suit flickered. 

“Quarter now,” he tried to bargain, and Shep glared at him, like any self-respecting merc would.

“ _Half_ ,” she emphasized. “You don't like it, hire someone else. From what I hear you've gone through quite a few someone elses already. You want quality, you get what you pay for.”

She had him by the metaphorical balls, and she knew it. What he didn't know, of course, was that they'd be confiscating the red sand shipment and impounding it, the recording Garrus was taking even as they spoke more than enough to put this damn trafficker in lockdown.

It didn't hurt to make a few creds off the criminal element, either.

“Half,” he conceded in defeat, and she glanced at the screen to see that the aforementioned lemons had made an appearance. Where the lemon-thief had been keeping them was a mystery she desperately did _not_ want solved.

Once she'd confirmed the transfer of the star charts and creds, Shep stood. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said. “We'll be in touch once the deal is done.”

Shep led them back through the club, the renewed pounding of the bass vibrating through her bones and tired feet, following them out the smoky glass doors and into a transit cab waiting outside.

“Well, that's done,” she said into the quiet of the cab, the relatively cool air refreshing after the hot lights and breath of too many bodies in the club. “Bastard'll get what's coming to him soon enough.”

“One less criminal in the galaxy,” Garrus replied. “Not that another won't spring up to replace him. But it's a nice thought.”

Thane said nothing- the usually quiet assassin had been even more laconic over the past few days. Shep wondered if she ought to check with him, or Doctor Chakwas, but he'd tell her if his illness was worsening, wouldn't he? He didn't look or _sound_ sick, not that she was an expert on drell, but-

They waited in the airlock for decontamination to finish, EDI announcing their arrival back on the bridge. Shep couldn't wait to get out of her damned shoes- she wore heels infrequently enough that they _hurt_.

But she had fabulous legs, and if she had to go clubbing, she was damn well going to look good doing it. She bid goodnight to Garrus and Thane, filling EDI in on the location from her omnitool during the ride up the lift.

She had a quick shower and a meal delivered to her door by one of the night crew, and crawled into bed after wolfing it down. They'd finish refueling and restocking, wait until the rest of the crew had returned from their allotted day of shore leave, and pass through the relay tomorrow. 

“Lights,” Shep called, and as they obediently dimmed, she hugged her pillow and closed her eyes.

 _I should check on Thane tomorrow_ , she thought before dropping into welcome unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until midday that Shep was found the time to visit Life Support- one of the crewmembers had gotten into a fistfight that'd earned him a night in the slammer, and as his CO she'd had to wade through the station's red tape to spring him. After delivering a dressing-down on appropriate shore-side behavior, she left him in Chakwas' care, having a quick lunch in the galley.

The _Normandy_ thrummed with energy as they approached the relay, and Shep closed her eyes and braced herself for the momentary disorientation that followed. 

“Jump complete,” Joker radioed over the comm, and Shep acknowledged it with orders to bring them into orbit, hopping into the women's restroom and having a quick glance in the mirror. Nothing like going to see a friend with a bit of lunch between your teeth.

“EDI, has Thane been to see Doctor Chakwas in the past few days?” she asked, running a hand over her short hair.

She just wanted to look professional. That was all.

“Negative, Commander,” EDI replied, and Shep shrugged. If he _was_ sick, it wasn't bad enough to need treatment in the med-bay. Unless he was being stubborn. “Mr. Krios has not left Life Support since Tuesday, other than to accompany you to the station.”

 _Wait a second._

“What about meals?” she asked.

“Mr. Krios has not appeared in the galley for meals in the past three days,” EDI confirmed, and Shep frowned.

She walked to Life Support and pressed the door chime. 

“Come,” came his rejoinder, and the doors slid open to admit her.

He sat, still as ever, back to the door, no acknowledgment of her presence given. Was he meditating? Maybe she was interrupting, and she should-

“What do you need, Shepard?” he said without turning, and Shep started. How had he known it was her?

“Thane,” she said, and paused. Normally he'd turn and face her, greet her, but today he sat ramrod-straight, deliberately facing forward.

 _Oh, crap. This isn't the lemons thing, I hope_ , Shep thought, and bit her lip. “I, uh, just wanted to make sure that you were all right.”

“I am fine,” came the taut reply. He still wasn't looking at her. Shep scowled. Lemons or no, she wasn't about to let him get away with this.

“EDI says you haven't eaten in three days,” she said, and walked towards him. “Talk to me, Thane.”

He turned slightly, and she took a long moment to admire his profile. Scales gleamed in the light, a vivid green that contrasted beautifully with the dark red of his neck frill. He seemed almost unnaturally bright, emerald and a subtler, sunset hue offsetting dark, dark eyes.

 _Is he always that- shiny?_ Shep frowned and took another step, and he stood suddenly, silently, surprising her.

“I am _fine_ , Shepard,” he said, meeting her gaze, tone clearly a dismissal. “It is none of your concern.”

“Everyone on this ship is my concern,” Shep replied, taking a step forward.

His nostrils flared, and Shep swore for a moment that his pupils dilated. 

A chill swept over her, and Shep realized it was at least ten degrees cooler than normal in the room. What the _hell_? Drell needed warm, dry temperatures- she knew that much, at least.

“Nuh-uh,” she responded, hand on hip. “You've been quiet, you haven't been eating, and for some reason the ship's only heat-loving drell is turning up the air-conditioning. If you were a dog I'd take you to the vet,” she said, cocking a brow. “Do I need to go get Chakwas?”

He took a breath, scales gleaming, and Shep had absolutely no warning for what came next.

One moment she was standing the middle of the room- the next, he had her pinned to the wall, forearm against her throat.

“I am _fine_ ,” he growled, and Shep stared at him, breath knocked out of her by both physical force and the biotic push he'd employed. He was close now, and she could see the sunset gleam on normally green scales, his eyes, wide, dilated, bright, the scales on his forearm hot against the skin of her neck.

She tried to knock his arm aside, and he responded in force, slamming her back a second time against the wall.

_Oh, shit._


	4. Chapter 4

The next few moments happened in a blur- the doors to Life Support whooshed open, and Garrus stepped inside. “Commander, I was going over some calibrations-”

A second later Thane was hit with six plus feet of snarling turian, and Shep took a welcome breath as the taller alien pushed the shorter back.

“It's a _human_ thing,” she heard him say, and had no time to wonder what the hell that even meant before a whiplash hit to the turian's chin rocked him back.

Combat reflexes kicking in, Shep threw herself at Garrus, using her momentum to shove him out of the way of Thane's next hit. “WHAT IN THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING,” she bellowed, and both men froze. 

Thane turned to look at her, eyes wide and dark, Garrus raising a hand to his bleeding gumline. 

“Damned _fool_ can't control himself,” the turian growled, and a deep answering rumble from the drell had Shep narrowing her eyes in irritation.

“Someone had better start explaining _now_ before I haul both of you to the med-bay,” she answered, and Garrus grimaced as much as a turian mouth would allow.

“It's you, Commander,” Garrus said at last, and Thane turned abruptly and stalked away from them to the other end of the room, bracing palms up against the wall, back to them. “Your scent.”

Well, _that_ wasn't what she was expecting to hear. “My- scent,” she repeated, uncomprehending. “What about it?”

The turian shifted and looked up at the ceiling in a posture she knew immediately as embarrassment, and Shep braced herself for some mortifying revelation.

It wasn't long in coming.

“Your- cycle,” Garrus said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. “When you human females are fertile, some of us on the ship can detect it. We can _usually_ ignore it,” he said with a sardonic glance at the drell.

“Wait, _what_?” she said, blood rushing to her cheeks. “You can smell when we're-”

“In heat,” he replied, and she turned crimson.

“Humans do _not_ go into heat,” she insisted, cringing inwardly and suddenly wanting a shower, stat.

“Close enough,” Garrus said, and Shep ran a hand through her hair.

“Ok, so I stink,” she said at last, and a she heard a choking noise from Thane. Garrus was back to examining the ceiling.

“More the opposite,” the turian clarified, and Shep's cheeks flamed. Holy hell, he was not implying what she thought he was implying. No, he was, and if she'd thought lemon-stealing whores were embarrassing, the universe had just added perspective.

“I should go,” she managed, and fled out the room and into the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

The trip to her quarters was mercifully quiet, and Shep snapped out “Lock doors” as soon as she was in her quarters. They wouldn't be in orbit for hours yet, and barring an emergency no one was likely to need her until they were ready to land.

She ran a hand through her hair, mortified. Ok, so she was some kind of scent-tease to turians and drell. That was going to take a bit of getting used to, although she supposed they'd been dealing with it without effort for years. She'd never gotten the sense from any of the turians she'd served with that had been anything less than professional.

Thane was the first drell she'd ever spent any time with, and the notoriously reclusive species tended to stay on Kahje. There were so few of them that the sight of any was a rarity, so it was possible that no one had really noticed a- sensitivity- before this. What about krogan, asari, hanar, and volus and all the other species? 

Shep grimaced. Ok, well, she'd just be professional. She could do that. It was just timing, and she could certainly make an effort to stay out of his way-

The elevator chimed outside her door, and a moment later the door chirped out the “no entry” sequence.

She froze. Oh, god, she did _not_ want to talk about this right now, and Garrus was the kind of guy who was happy to talk about things like this _never_ -

Maybe it was another one of the crew?

The door chirped its refusal again, and the sound of an arm striking the door made her breath catch.

No, it was definitely him.

She activated the comm, heart in her throat. “What is it, Thane?” she said, managing to keep her voice level.

“Shepard,” came the deep, vibrating response that had her clenching her thighs together, “Let me in.”

“I, ah, don't know if that's the best idea,” she answered, mentally kicking herself. She'd thought she had this attraction under control. It was just his goddamn voice, and the hypnotic blink of his eyes, and his intelligence, damn it, who even read Thomas Hobbes in this day and age anyway?

Fuck.

Silence.

“I wanted to...apologize,” he said after a moment. “And to explain, if you will allow it.”

Well, crap. They could either have this conversation over the comm, on two sides of a door, or she could let him in and they could discuss it like reasonable adults. It was just chemistry.

Right. Well.

She tapped out a command on the panel next to the fish tank, and walked over to the bed, taking a seat. He could sit on the couch, she'd sit on the bed, keep some space between them, and it'd be fine. The doors whooshed open behind her, and he stepped inside, deliberate, brilliant, like some sort of god of nature amongst dull, synthetic plastic and metal.

“Thank you, _siha_ ,” he said, and she shivered involuntarily at the name. He still hadn't told her what it meant, but it was an endearment of some sort, that much was clear.

“Please, sit,” she said, indicating the couch. “Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head and sat, arranging his coat beneath him, hands coming to rest on his thighs. “I need nothing, Shepard, except your forgiveness, if you will grant it.”  
He took in a breath, chest rising, fingers tightening on his thighs. Shep wished she hadn't noticed.

This would be so much easier if certain lines hadn't already been crossed, interest indicated, reciprocated in the multitude of conversations they'd had, both of them dancing around it like fencers with foils, neither willing to give up the advantage, both looking for an opening, a moment, the right time.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she answered, shaking her head. “It's my own fault for not being aware of...things, and for not respecting your privacy when you needed it. Just a-” she searched for the right words- “quirk of biology, right?”

He raised his eyes to hers, and the breath caught in her lungs.


	6. Chapter 6

“On my part as well as yours,” he replied after a moment, the tension between them easing momentarily. “I'm afraid that a -quirk- of my species has compounded yours, Shepard.”

“What do you mean?” Throat dry, she stood and walked over to the water dispenser against the wall, taking her favorite mug from a nearby shelf and filling it. It was easier not to fidget with something in her hands, and she resumed her seat on the edge of the bed.

“You said that humans do not go into season, as such,” he answered, and she nodded. “The same cannot be said for my people.”

Wait, what?

“-Okay,” she said after a moment, desperately trying not to turn red. “Are you saying that- _you_ -”

She was going to die of embarrassment on the spot.

“Rakhana is a harsh planet,” he answered, “And my people developed in sync with the planet's cycles. To bear children in the dry season would have condemned them to death millennia ago.”

That made sense, she had to admit. “So, uh. How often does this become a problem for you?”

“A problem, Shepard?” He smiled ever so slightly. “I don't know of many who would call it such.”

“What would you call it, then?” she replied, aware that whatever barriers they'd maintained between them were eroding like castles of sand on the shore, wave after wave breaking it down faster than busy hands could rebuild. She honestly wasn't sure if she cared, at this point.

“Let me find the words to describe it,” he said after a moment. “A hunger, if you will. But neither for food, nor for drink. Heat coursing through my veins, burning brightly, sharpening the world. Everything in focus. Sights, sounds, the touch of fabric on skin.” His fingers slid down, running over the fabric on the couch, and Shepard swallowed. Hard.

“And then you, _siha_ ,” he continued, finally, “A warrior-angel of the goddess Arashu. Fierce in wrath, a tenacious protector. I met one in Irikah. Never had I thought to meet another.”

Oh.

Shep wasn't sure if this was a conversation or foreplay, but it was becoming rapidly clear that alternate outcomes to this discussion were disappearing. She'd hesitated, held back- he was _dying_ , and it was the height of masochism to involve yourself with someone you were guaranteed to lose.

But then again, the destruction of the original _Normandy_ had proven that death could come from anywhere, at any time, and that the universe held no guarantees.

Would she deny both of them this happiness, however fleeting, in the face of what they were up against, Collectors and Reapers and the destruction of all life in the galaxy as they knew it?

“So your... season was like...” she searched for a metaphor- “cleaning the gun, and I'm adding a thermal clip?” Oh, god. That had to be the worst metaphor ever. Plus she was pretty sure that the military already used the phrase “cleaning the gun” to refer to-

“Apt enough,” he replied, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the bastard was _smirking_ at her.

“You're enjoying this,” she accused, and he lifted a brow ridge at her.

“You're not?” he answered, and she reddened. “That can be remedied, _siha_.”

“How do you-” she fumbled for the words. “Can we even- um. Drell and human, I mean.” She took a drink, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“That vid in the club,” he answered, and she groaned, burying her head in her hand. “If that is a representative ...encounter,” he said, “I have no doubt we are-” his mouth twitched. “Compatible.”

“I'm not sure bad porn vids are representative of _anything_ ,” she answered from her hand, peeking out from her fingers at his quiet chuckle.

“Anatomically speaking, of course,” he added.

“So how do I, um, smell to you,” she said, curiously, and his fingers tightened on the couch.

“ _Siha_ ,” he warned, “this is a conversation better suited to a more...intimate encounter. I cannot vouch for my control if we are to continue.” He stood, paced towards the door, and turned back. “Choose. Tell me to go, and I shall.”

“And if I don't?” she managed, fingers clutching her mug.

“I-” he struggled with himself. “I cannot promise to be gentle, now. Tell me to go, _siha_.”

She considered, and chose. “Lock doors, lights at fifty percent,” she said, and the chime answered, door light turning red. Swallowing, she looked up at her lover, for lover he was, or would be. “Stay with me.” She stood, and waited.

He crossed the room in four quick strides, hand lifting, cupping her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek. His scales were smooth, dry, feverishly warm, his eyes wide, unblinking.

His other hand smoothed around her hip, pulled her close, body to body, as if they were dancing. One long moment passed where they studied each other, watched, waited. “Your choice,” he growled at last, and his grip tightened, mouth coming down on hers.


	7. Chapter 7

He kissed like he killed, with skill, her fingers tightening around folds of his coat. Warm- he was so warm, the rasp of his hand against her skin, fingers sliding back to tangle in her hair. Tongue and lips met, and there was no hesitation in him, no holding back, just the taste of him, the dry tangy scent of his skin, the way he pulled a small sound from her as he caught her lip with his teeth.

He was purpose incarnate, and she was swept under like a swimmer in a riptide.

Pressure on her scalp approached pain as he pulled, forcing her head back, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“Shall I tell you how thoroughly you have destroyed me, _siha_?” he whispered, harshly. She swallowed, and he brought up his other hand, trailing it over her exposed neck. “So delicate, here, and soft- a little pressure, one sharp turn, just _so_ -” he put his other hand to the side of her head, and she was reminded suddenly of when they'd met, how efficiently he'd killed Nassana's guard before they'd even known he was there.

“And yet it is I who am helpless before you,” he said, “Such a fierce soul burning in such fragile flesh, soft skin, and the smell of sex on you, desire, like a drug.”

“Thane,” she managed, thickly, not sure if it was a plea or a benediction, mouth tingling, the pain in her scalp mingling with the desire pooling in her belly. It was a rush, or he was, or-

She panted once, twice, heat spreading from her chest as if she'd chugged three cups of coffee.

He pulled her head back further, bent to scrape teeth along the side of her neck, where her pulse rushed. “So soft, he said, wonderingly, and when he pressed, harder, teeth not cutting but certainly enough to leave a mark, she whimpered. Tongue followed where teeth marked, and she shivered, eyes fluttering closed. Pain, pleasure, energy, and the sharpness of sensation mixed, as if the light itself had grown brighter, the sound of their mingled breaths loud in the quiet, his mouth finding the junction of her neck and shoulder, teeth again, oh god.

“Please,” she said, and he moved his head next to her ear, hand moving to press on the pulse of her neck just _so_.

“Do you find me a merciful man, _siha_?” he whispered in her ear, voice resonant, and when she closed her eyes, she found light in every color blooming behind her eyelids.

A little lightheaded, she shook her head, and his grip tightened. “No,” she managed breathlessly, and he relaxed minutely, pushing back the faint spots of black at the edge of her vision.

“Remember that,” he whispered, moving to claim her mouth once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Another drugging kiss and her fingers were tugging at his shirt, anything. She needed to touch him, needed that warmth, needed to explore the mystery of his body with hands and mouth and eyes, to learn her lover until she could see him like the bright blooms of light behind her eyelids. Even in the semidark, he gleamed, green and those amazing stripes that patterned him, shining like the onyx of his eyes. He was texture and color, scent and touch and taste, _Thane_.

He seized her wrists, stilling her hands, and she was reminded of the strength of him; though they were of a height and she, a proud marine of the Alliance and no slouch, he was the stronger.

“What do you want?” he breathed in her ear, tonguing the lobe.

“I want to see you,” she sighed, and after a moment, he moved closer, forcing her back up or to fall, one step, another, until her calves hit the back of the bed.

He released her wrists and released the catches on his coat, maneuvering his thumbs out of the wrist gauntlets before shrugging out of it and tossing it onto a chair. The zippered vest he wore underneath ended at his midriff, leaving chest and back tantalizingly bare. The flexible metal torque that fit snugly over his collarbone was the only other ornamentation he wore, and unbuttoning several clasps on the shoulders of his vest that held it in place, he lifted it over his head before tossing it on top of the coat.

The vest and pants fit him like a second skin, the patterning on all of his clothes reminiscent of his own scales. He was beautiful, the striping over his shoulders and down his arms emphasizing the curves of his body.

She ran a hand lightly down his arm, following stripe and scale, memorizing flesh and sinew, the dark-flecked scales that were almost like human freckles, torso lean, not an ounce of spare weight on him. No nipples, of course- she'd read somewhere on the extranet a while back that drell infants were born able to eat solid food, rather than milk. No mammary glands in the entire species.

Shep had a moment of self-consciousness. Would he think her breasts were bizarre, or disgusting? This interspecies thing had suddenly become more real when clothes started coming off, and she hesitated.

He tipped her chin up with a forefinger. “What?” he asked, and she grimaced momentarily.

“I'm, uh. Not built exactly like drell women,” she answered. “I guess I never asked how you felt about that. I don't want to, I dunno, make this some sort of fetish thing, or be weird.” She took a breath.

“True,” he said, moving a hand up to trail around the shell of her ear. “But neither am I human, _siha_. Do you find my hands repulsive?” he asked, holding up his fused digits for her inspection. “Or my skin strange?”

“N-no,” she said hastily. “Unusual, but not in a bad way,” she qualified, taking his hand in hers, running fingers over knuckles under fused skin. “Beautiful.”

“How could I find you any less?” he replied, to which she had no answer except those that admitted less self-esteem than she'd thought she possessed.

He kissed her again, hands skimming up her back, exploring the curve of her body, then releasing her, deliberately unzipped the front of her jacket, never taking his eyes off her face as he pulled it off of her shoulders.

Underneath she wore a simple black t-shirt and pants- Cerberus wasn't picky about what she wore on the ship, as long as she did what they needed when she was off it. Simple was better, especially when she could pull on her body armor and strap on her weapons at a moment's notice if need be.


	9. Chapter 9

His hands toyed with the material at her waistband, then tugged her shirt up, the slight roughness of his hands amplified, somehow, as he explored the skin of her belly. Everything seemed sharper, brighter, _more_ with him, the slightest movements of his body leaving an afterimage in the space he'd occupied. He bent and licked the skin at her waist, and she skimmed fingers over his shoulders, the crown of his head, the delicate ridges of his frill, the skin there so soft in comparison to his scales.

He made a low sound as she traced the last, then stood to pull the shirt over her head. Fingers explored the edges of her simple cotton bra, traced to the underside of her breast, up and over a nipple. She drew in a sharp breath.

“Ah,” he said, “here, then?” and repeated the movement, tips hardening under his touch. His attention never wavered, and there was something intensely erotic about knowing that he was committing every moment to perfect memory.

“Yes,” she managed, and he rubbed his thumb in a circle, cupping her breast.

“Soft, or hard?” he asked, teasing the peak with fingers, and when he pressed, harder, pinching almost to the point of pain, she whimpered.

“Both,” she sighed, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Turn around,” he ordered, and she obeyed, feeling his fingers on the clasp. The hooks and eyes were no challenge, and the bra straps slid over her arms.

Feeling oddly shy, she waited to see what he'd do next. Fingers traced up her spine, then back down, before both of his hands settled on her lower back, gently sliding up to her shoulders, then down her arms, straps sliding off her hands and falling to the ground.

He said nothing, but simply applied pressure to her waist, turning her back to face him.

He _hmm'ed_ under his breath, hands sliding over her skin, up, over her breasts, then underneath, finding the faint markings left by underwires.

“Turnabout is fair play, don't you think?” she said, and he again raised a brow ridge at her. 

“As you wish. Lay down, _siha_.” She lounged back on the pillows and watched him undo at least three straps on his vest she hadn't even seen, then tugged the central zipper down. He paused for a moment, considered her, then opened a pocket, withdrawing from it-

Was that rope?

It was a coil of rope, nylon or silk, she wasn't sure, and without comment he tossed it on the bed.

“What, exactly, are you planning to do with that?” she asked.

He stripped off the vest, revealing that his stripes curved around his back and onto the sides of his torso. “That depends,” he answered evenly. “I find that one can accomplish many things with the right tools.”

“That's not evasive at _all_ ,” she answered, somewhat nervously.

“Let me speak more plainly then,” he answered. “There have been times in my work where a certain economy of movement was required of my target. If I find that the same is necessary here, I will utilize the skills I have acquired to achieve the desired result.”

“That's speaking more plainly?” she said with a touch of humor. “From what I can tell you're basically saying that you're going to tie me up if you decide I need it.”

“Correct,” he answered, and her palms began to sweat.


	10. Chapter 10

He divested them both of their footwear, spending several minutes tracing the curve of her ankle. “Your feet pained you last night?” he inquired, and she flexed her toes, grimacing slightly.

“High heels may be fashionable, but they're damned uncomfortable after awhile,” she replied, and he pressed gently on the sole, making her jerk and fight back a giggle.

“Sensitive here as well?” he asked, and a light scrape of his nail along the bottom of her foot made her squirm.

“Ahaha, in a different way, yes,” she answered, and he moved from tickling to a gentle rub that had her head lolling back. “But that- mmm. That's, nnn. Very good.”

His feet were similar, although smaller than she would have expected on a human man, his middle toes fused in the same way his fingers were. He ran fingers up her calves, then put a knee on the bed, moving to lay next to her. Curious and a little bold, she traced fingers over his torso, the clearly demarcated line on his lips and chin following down to his chest. She followed fingers with lips and tongue, feeling his muscles tense when she licked the soft skin at the base of his throat.

When she tugged teasingly at the waist of his pants, he rolled them over, pinning her wrists to the bed with his hands, his own weight pinning her down. His breath was coming a bit faster, heart beating against her own, and he pushed her wrists once more into the bed for emphasis. “You test what control I have, _siha_. Be still.”

Testing his control sounded like a fine idea. She wanted him, now, and the infuriatingly slow pace was beginning to drive her mad. She struggled in his grip, bucking her body underneath his, drawing a low, vibrating growl from his throat. He shifted, trapping both her wrists in one hand, then pressed his forearm against her throat, cutting off her breath with a precisely applied amount of pressure.

She struggled harder, but _damn him_ , he was strong, and as the seconds ticked by, her lungs began to ache as she fought against his grip. “I was training to kill when you were an infant,” he rasped, and darkness began to cloud her vision. “I'd advise you to remember that.”

When she submitted, stilled, he took the pressure off her throat, and she gasped for air. Before she could demand an explanation, he moved to his knees, flipping her on her stomach. His hands tugged her arms behind her back, and within moments her wrists were bound together. 

“What the fuck,” she wheezed, and he finished whatever he was doing, rolling her back over to face him, moving her to a more seated position against the pillows.

“Perhaps you will heed the warning when it is given next time,” he said calmly.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she managed, indignantly, and he _smiled_.

“If I wanted to kill you, Shepard, you'd already be dead,” he answered, and she swallowed. It was hard to remember at times that the man with whom she discussed religion and literature was the same one who'd been killing people for a living for several decades.

“What are you going to do?” she said, feeling the onset of slight panic.

“I'm going to gag you if you continue to speak,” he replied, eyes glittering at her.

She took the hint.

He watched her for a moment, waiting, for what, she wasn't precisely sure. A protest, perhaps? But as unexpected as the situation was, she trusted Thane. He knew what he was doing, he cared about her, and he wouldn't hurt her. And there was something intensely arousing about knowing that he was in control, knowing that she was at his mercy, and that he would enforce the demands he made of her. The rest of the galaxy was waiting for _her_ to act, to make the decisions, to build the team that would stop the biggest threat in the universe, but here, for these moments, with him, she could let him have control.

It was immensely freeing, and she relaxed.

He nodded, then, as if he'd been waiting for a signal, and moved next to her. Hands and mouth rewarded her subservience, as if he would taste every inch of her, touch and caress every bit of skin, every scar.


	11. Chapter 11

When his tongue teased her nipple, she exhaled sharply. He toyed with her for a few more moments, then sucked, applying the slightest pressure of teeth. “Oh, _god_ , Thane,” she moaned, remembering belatedly that she wasn't supposed to speak. But either he was feeling generous, or expressions of pleasure were allowed, and he continued, rolling her other peak between finger and thumb.

His fingers moved to her belt, making quick work of the closure, and without further ado, he drew off the rest of her clothing, leaving her naked, bound, exposed before him, her wet curls covering the lips of her swollen sex.

He settled between her slightly bent legs, paying attention to calves, knees, and thighs, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. She shifted beneath him as he concentrated on every other part of her body except for the obvious, desperate for him.

Strong hands stilled her movement, the message clear- he would do as he pleased, when he pleased. His touch gentled, pulling a sigh from her when his index finger parted her, skimming down her slit from top to bottom. When that finger pressed into her, she closed her eyes, head leaning back, letting out a strangled moan. He eased in and out a few times, then smoothed the slick digit over her swollen nub.

Her breath caught, and she tensed. He repeated the motion and her breath hissed out.

“Here as well?” he asked softly. 

She moaned “Oh, _fuck_ ,” in reply as he brought his thumb up to rub.

Eyes shut, she had no warning before his warm, wet, mobile tongue licked where fingers had been, and she cried out, hands clenching behind her as he began to build a rhythm. His fused fingers pressed into her, tongue busy on her clit, and her muscles tightened around him as she came closer to cusp.

And then he _stopped_ , and her eyes flew open as he withdrew his fingers and sat up.

“You taste of the sea,” he said, low, raw, and kissed her again. 

 

She tried to control her breathing, and failed, pulse pounding with the nearness of him, wanting to touch him, sighing as their tongues tangled.

It was the best and worst kind of torture, and when he ended the kiss, her eyelids fluttered open.

He shifted to the edge of the bed and unbuckled his pants.

Oh, thank _god_.

One slim leg came out of those tight leather pants, then the other the curve of his back leading to a tantalizingly toned backside.

She wasn't sure what to expect from his body- he'd said they were “compatible,” and she assumed that meant they were more or less similar.

He moved to rest next to her, nude, and she shifted, eyes roving over his body.

Sinuous curves of his stomach continued down to his hips, between his legs where scale gave way to a the pinkish tinge of a sheath, a slightly pointed tip barely visible.

_Ok, that's...unusual._

She remembered hearing something similar about Earth lizards and turians, and swallowed. Ok, well, she'd been enjoying herself up to this point. She _was_ having sex with an alien. She just hadn't thought he'd be so-

different.

“It's, um, inside?” she asked, breaking the silence he'd imposed, but he seemed to understand that she needed to talk.

“Only as long as I wish it,” he answered, his thumb going down to gently tease the head, sighing ever so slightly at the contact.

That was...hot.

“Show me?” she asked, and he held her eyes, then took a breath, flexing an unseen muscle.

His cock eased out, different, but undeniably beautiful. The tip was of a more triangular shape than a human's, a little darker than the shaft, with the same purplish-red hue that any blood-engorged organ would have. 

Several delicately raised ridges encircled the shaft, which thickened at the base, then curved up along his hip, gleaming with the slick from his sheath.

They were _definitely_ compatible.

“Untie me?” she said, wanting to run her hands over his cock, to learn the shape of him, to see if the skin of that triangular tip felt as velvety as it looked.

He reached behind her with a hand, and with a few swift pulls, the rope loosened. She felt a moment of envy that he hadn't even had to look to undo it.

She rolled her shoulders and stretched slightly, then slid her hand down his chest. Smooth, slick scales, just a hint of texture. She moved lower, sliding her hand around him, watched him close his eyes, head tilting back as he let out a heated breath.

He wasn't strange. He was Thane, and he was _beautiful_ , and he was hers.

“Kiss me?” she asked, stroking gently over the texture of him with her thumb. He covered her hand with his own, those dark eyes opening slowly, and lowered his mouth to hers.

Hand curled around his shaft, she followed the pressure of his hand in a stroke, her body tightening as he let out a low moan of pleasure against her mouth.

 

Eyes closed, colors behind her lids, she felt only him, heard only him, as if her world had narrowed to the two of them, the feel of his skin, his tangy scent. He shifted, body covering hers, and she waited, expecting it, wanting him.

His thumb found her again, rubbed in circles, and she let out a sigh of mingled desire and frustration.

She opened her eyes to see a slightly amused look on his face as he watched her. “Did you need something, Shepard?” he asked conversationally, teasing her with a finger.

Letting out a strangled moan, she shoved at his shoulder with her palm, and glared, and he smirked, the bastard, then brought his hand up quickly, catching her wrist.

“ _Though she be but little, she is fierce_ ,” he quoted with a lightning-fast smile, then forced her arm to her side with sheer strength. 

Of course he'd quote Shakespeare in bed.

She struggled, just to be contrary, and he shifted, leaning his weight into her, mouth at her ear.

“Do you think to challenge me, _siha_?” he rasped. “I warn you, I rarely lose.”

“Please,” she managed, and he made a sound of amusement.

“Please-” teeth nibbling at her neck- “what?”

“Make love to me,” she whispered.

“For hours,” he promised, and she drew in a sharp breath when he _bit_.

“Inside me,” she moaned, the feel of his skin so slick and warm over hers, the slightest pressure of his cock against her core.

“My fingers? My tongue?” he answered, hips circling in mimicry of what he knew she wanted.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” she said in frustration, and he laughed.

“Such a mouth on you, my _siha_ ,” he teased, but his chest was rising and falling with rapid breaths, his hand between them, guiding.

She let out a soft, desperate cry as he eased into her.

 _Thane_. Oh, god. _Thane_.


	12. Chapter 12

He began with short, slow strokes, easing deeper with every breath, barely pulling out except to sink a little deeper inside her. She tightened around him with every movement. It was- he was-

He nearly hilted in her, the thick base of his cock against her entrance, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he let out a breath. He held there for a long moment, weight shifted to his forearms, hands sliding under the pillow on either side of her head to grip the bedsheets. His eyes were closed, body tense as she slid her hands around his sides and up his back, and she reveled in him, warm and smooth and oh, so good.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, watching her, and the short, slow strokes began again, speeding up, hips grinding against hers, without a moment's pause to recover, no surcease from sensation. Her head fell to the side, eyes closing as she felt, and felt, and felt him, so deep, so good, even as she needed, wanted more. She slid a hand between them, feeling him pause as she began to work her clit with busy fingers, letting out a soft, desperate cry of pleasure as sensation added to sensation.

She wasn't going to last, oh, god, it was good, he was _so good_ , not a deep pounding but a more intimate, rhythmic, continuous pressure against her center.

He pressed into her and _stopped_.

She moaned in frustration- just a few more moments, a little more, she was so close-

“Be still,” he ordered, and her hand stopped at his command, even as her body screamed for more.  
He bent his head to suck her nipple, and her hips bucked against his, demanding-

 _“Be. Still_.” he said against her skin, and the low growl made her whimper, even as she stopped.

He lavished attention on her breasts, as if he wasn't buried inside her, her orgasm backing off even as his mouth and hands teased. It was like water after wine- she wasn't going to come if he didn't _move_ -

And then his hips began again, driving him against her core relentlessly.

“Please,” she begged, breath ragged as her hands came up his back, urging him into her, feeling him drive her closer to a deep, deep orgasm, not the shallow pleasure of hands on clit but the primal heat of his cock hitting just- that- spot- “ _don't stop-_ ”

He gave her another handful of strokes, and stopped, again, swallowing her wail of protest with a kiss, his hands sliding up, cradling her skull, tangling in her hair. His heart hammered against hers, skin hot, and she pressed palms against his lower back, lifting her hips to take him, pushing hands down to try and grind him into her, more, more.

He let out a strangled cry and began again, bodies moving together, pressure building as she panted into his mouth, opening her eyes to see him watching, his hands cradling her head.

She was going up again, closer, closer, and oh, god, he wasn't stopping, her body tensing, climbing, and oh, god, he was going to bring her this time.

Moans turned into gasping, full throated cries as she came, body arching into him, taking him as deeply as she could, pleasure and pain mixing as she tried to take the base of him, felt him stretch her, the tip of him pressed as far inside as she could manage, light exploding behind her eyelids as she sobbed out orgasm.

He slowed as she began to come down, but didn't stop, lengthening his strokes. She could feel him exquisitely inside of her, the give and take of her body like the tide, felt every ridge in and out of her, against her, inside her, making her clench around him with the sensation.

Her head tilted to the side, mouth open, as he opened her, exhaling raggedly with his every movement. She panted when he sped up, pounding her, her hands falling to clench the sheets, spreading her legs wider for him.

 

He pressed into her, and they cried out together as the swelling at the base of his shaft breached her. He held for one long moment, in her, completely, his muscles trembling as his mouth found hers.

Pulling slowly out of her, he let her feel every inch of him, hot inside her, and when the head of his cock came out to rest against her entrance, she let out a sound of protest. But the slow, deliberate slide back into her made her writhe, not building up to cusp but the simple sheer sensation of him wet and hot with her own slick. He filled her again, and again, the base of him inside with the completion of each thrust, his breath coming faster, his pace speeding up.

There was no gentleness in him as he took her, fast, hard, his face buried in the crook of her neck, and she knew that she'd feel this for days when he filled her so deeply it verged on pain.

But pain and pleasure mingled as he snaked an arm around the back of her knee, opening her more deeply. She took him, matched stroke for stroke, canted her hips up to meet his. Her hands moved along his back as he tensed, held him as he came, low cries muffled into her shoulder.

Their bodies relaxed, hers slick with sweat, and she realized, suddenly, that the base of his shaft was swelling inside her, feeling him tremble with aftershocks as he spent himself, the knot tying him inside. The thought was somehow incredibly erotic.

He levered himself up on his forearms to look into her eyes. “All right?” he asked softly, and she brought up a hand to cup his cheek.

“Better than all right,” she answered, feeling her muscles contract around him in the afterglow, feeling him tremble in response. “How, um, long is this going to last, by the way?”

“About a half-hour,” he answered, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Do humans not join in this way?”

She shook her head minutely. “They used to say 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am,'” she replied, and he laughed. “We cuddle for a bit, or the rude ones roll over and go to sleep.”

“But how-” he kissed her “-can one enjoy one's lover if they fall asleep so quickly?”

“Good question,” she answered, then gasped when he pressed against her, a reminder that he was still hard and buried to the hilt inside her. “ _Nnngh_ ,” she managed, and heard him chuckle.

“No time to sleep, _siha_ ,” he said in her ear, “I'm nowhere near done with you yet.”

“EDI, delay planetfall until tomorrow,” she managed before his mouth claimed hers again.

Neither of them heard the AI's acknowledgment.

*************

THE END~ <3


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